Hard to Say What it is I See in You
by YFWE
Summary: A heartwarming tale of friendship and values. Ok, not really. To be honest, this is pretty screwed up, I think, but I shan't be the judge of it-- I'll leave that up to you to decide. 8D Moved to the M section.


I felt like doing this fanfic simply because I had never done a Spud/Trixie fanfic

**I felt like doing this fanfic simply because I had never done a Spud/Trixie fanfic… even if, technically, this fic doesn't exactly pair them together in the most extreme romantic sense. And unfortunately, I discovered afterwards that I had already used the idea for the opening in a similar light with my fic "The Thought Of It." Oh well, I guess I enjoy using Spud as the go-to guy when someone needs to vent or simply needs a little company. Spud's just awesome like that. 8D**

**This is written through Spud's point of view. Just a quick reminder in case anyone was confused.**

**And one more reminder: against my better judgment, I'm setting the rating at 'T' for this fanfic. Honestly, it probably could go both ways, but just know that certain themes and language are not necessarily 'nice'… although let me tell you, they're far more tame than what I originally had planned.**

Hard to Say What It is I See in You

YFWE

My mom always taught me not to answer the door if you did not know who it was—especially if you were home alone. "Look out of the window and see who it is first," she would say. "And if they stick around for more than five minutes, call me." And I had followed this rule rather religiously for years, since I was younger, and it always seemed to work to my advantage—I have been avoiding door-to-door salesmen and altogether shady characters (sometimes both in one sitting) for quite a long time. It advanced, soon enough, to the point where I was no longer even looking out of the window and seeing who it was. If they had no key, they had no right to be in my house. And then, of course, there was always the laziness.

And so, as I was upstairs one warm summer evening, indulging myself in the new Tony Hawk game as my ceiling fan blew invitingly cool air onto my face, I heard the doorbell ring three times in rapid succession, followed by a feverish knocking at the front door. Now, of course, as I said, I had begun to completely ignore such an occurrence, although honestly, I was so bent on landing the perfect 900 on my game that I likely would not have risen from my bed anyway.

The doorbell rang again. If anything, it was a salesman. Or woman… I would rather not be labeled a sexist or something. Anyway, this _salesperson _was a very persistent one at that. Could have been a dude from the Ikea that had just opened up down the street. I had heard that they were basically manning a full frontal assault on the people in our section of town. Not really sure why—most of us were pretty much barely scraping by, so new furniture was really out of the question—my family included.

My twentieth attempt at the 900 failed just as miserably as the first. In as dejected a manner as I possibly could bear, I tossed the game controller to the side and buried my face in my pillow. It was then that I noticed that the salesperson was still knocking at the door—had been for about five minutes at that point. I sighed and glanced at my cell phone; mom had always said to call after five minutes. So it was about that time.

But to my surprise, before I could pick it up, the phone began to ring on its own accord. I froze. First incessant knocking at my front door, and now this? This was beginning to sound like something out of an old slasher flick.

Reluctantly, I flipped open my phone, not even bothering to check the caller ID—which was stupid, really, but remember, I was more or less scared witless at this point. "Hello?" I asked, my voice quivering.

"Spudinski, open up this damn door. It's me!"

I gasped, trotting quickly through the upper floor of my house to my parents' bedroom, where the forward-most window was located. I threw my head over the side, one hand clutching the windowsill, the other holding my phone to my ear. And sure enough, there she was. Trixie.

"Oh—Trixie! ...hi!"

"You can stop talking into the phone, Spud, I'm right here," Trixie said to me with a displeased scowl. "Mind openin' up? Been here for about five minutes, y'know…"

"Right!" I nearly dropped the phone as I launched myself from the window and downstairs, throwing open the many locks we had on the door ("Never can be too protected," my mom had said.). Then I turned the doorknob, flinging the door open, and welcoming the sight of my best friend.

Trixie's eyes were heavy and her cheeks appeared to be stained with drying tears. "I hate him!" she screamed, pushing me aside as she came inside, placing herself on the nearby couch in the living room. I shut the door and reset all the locks, before turning back to her; she had hidden her face in her hands. "Y'know, mom doesn't really want you over here when I'm home alone…" I said, although I really did not mind her presence—it was not my rule, after all.

"Spud, I like your parents and all, but at this point they can shove it for all I care," growled Trixie into her hands. "I just need to vent, and Jake's got dragon business, so that leaves you."

"What about Kyle?" I asked absentmindedly, thinking of her longtime crush, Kyle Wilkins. The two of them had begun dating just a month prior, as soon as school let out. To my dismay, of course.

Trixie groaned, removed her hands from her face and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "What? Was it something I said?" I sat down next to her on the couch.

She stared straight at me, her eyes seeming to water again. "You really are clueless, aren't you?"

"I've been called many things and clueless is one of them. Why does it surprise you?" I grinned. "Would you have me any other way?" I added sheepishly.

Trixie was not amused at my feeble attempt at humor. "Kyle and I had a date tonight, remember?"

"You might've mentioned it…" often times, I tried to block out Trixie whenever the subject was on Kyle and her. Which, anymore, was often. I mean, come to think of it, this had been the first time all week that I had seen her!—anymore it was either Kyle or bust.

"I _know _I mentioned it. Kyle was taking me out to dinner and a movie, and then we were gonna head back to his house."

"Congratulations. Did it go well?" I asked, not really caring for the answer.

"For a while," replied Trixie, her eyes downcast. "Dinner was great and the movie was hilarious. It's just—"

"He's a bad kisser, isn't he?" I said half-jokingly.

For a second, there was a twinge at the corner of Trixie's mouth—the start of a grin, perhaps. "Oh, no. Homeboy's easily the best kisser I've had the opportunity to experience. Trust me—it ain't that."

"Oh," I sighed. "What happened, then?"

She answered this with a question of her own, one that caught me entirely off guard. "Spud, you're a virgin, right?"

For a moment I was taken aback, having not expected anything even remotely along those lines to escape from her mouth. But I answered, truthfully: "Yeah. Dating options have been pretty thin for me over the years." I cocked my head. "…why? You are, right?"

"_Was_," Trixie sighed, and again buried her face in her hands. "Until tonight."

I could not believe what I had just heard. I stared at her—Trixie, the object of my desire, the love my life, the prize that I had not-so-secretly longed for since I first laid eyes on her, had done precisely what she swore she would never let herself do, at least at her age. And especially with _him_…

"You said you wouldn't let it come to that! Trix, you've been dating him for a fucking month! And you're fourteen!"

"Fifteen, Spud. You were at my party two weeks ago, remember?"

"Still, you said—!"

"I know what I said!"

I paused, gazing back into her brown eyes, her big, beautiful, innocent brown eyes… "He didn't rape you, did he? I fucking swear…"

Trixie, biting back tears, shook her head. "No, I-I let him do it!"

"You mean, you _consented _to it?!"

Trixie began to cry harder than I had ever seen her cry. I frowned. Honestly, I hated seeing her this way, I really did. But she had lied to me. And a true friend would have never lied to me about something like this. So immensely did I want to call her a name that I was certain she had never been called—at least certainly not be me, no, I never would have dared it—but I could not bring myself to say it. And looking back on the matter, I am glad I did not.

"W-we went up to his room," started Trixie after her sobs had subsided. "And I know I shouldn't've gone up there. Hell, I shouldn't've even gone to his house. But he'd said that his parents would be home—which was a lie, of course.

"So he said he wanted to show me something once we were there. I was already feeling uneasy about the whole thing, but when I looked into his eyes—damn, that boy has some fine eyes—everything seemed to melt away, and before long, we were on his bed, all over each other…."

I listened intently, still not wanting to believe a word. But then, I saw where she was coming from—the guy did have a pretty handsome pair of eyes. Now, this is just between you and me, but I would have gone gay for the guy solely for that reason, had I not detested him so. "Let me guess," I said, "one thing led to another? Spooning led to forking?"

Trixie shot me a look that, while it was mostly composed of sourness, also possessed the same look she normally gave me each and every day—an annoyed look, although with a hint of admiration. Guess I could take that.

"I'd told him no plenty of times before this," she continued. "Told him I was too young—and, for that matter, so was he. And yet," she sighed, "before I knew it, there we were—I was completely naked, and he had nothing but his boxers on."

"That should've raised a couple of warning signs right there," I said.

Trixie ignored this. "He asked me one more time if I was okay with going further, but he didn't really give me a chance to answer… before long he was fucking me like I was the last person he'd ever get laid with—no respect for me whatsoever."

"Didn't it hurt?" I asked, thinking back to Health class that previous year; the teacher said it would hurt during the girl's first time.

"Like a motherfucker," grimaced Trixie. "Luckily, homeboy don't have much stamina… it only lasted maybe three minutes."

"So he—finished?"

"That's what he claimed. Could've just been bluffing, though—to tell you the truth, I couldn't really tell. He's a bit, er, small, if you know what I mean."

I laughed for the first time that night and—without even knowing I had done it until seconds later—threw my arm around her. Surprisingly, she leaned in slightly towards me.

"You'd've been proud of me, Spud," said Trixie. "He was gettin' kinda cocky afterwards, basically talkin' shit, and I kicked him right where it hurts the most. Hopefully he won't be able to have children later on…."

"A little drastic, don't you think?" I asked, feeling momentarily sorry for the guy.

"Looking back on it, yeah. You should've heard the boy, though… if you were in my shoes, you'd've done the same thing."

"That would be horribly awkward if I was in the same position as you," I joked. To my surprise, she actually laughed that time.

We sat there for a few minutes, my arm around her, saying not a word to each other. In the meantime, I could feel her heartbeat—against my shoulder—finally slowing down; she was at long last calming down. Trixie wiped her eyes off with her sleeve and, after what seemed like hours of silence, said: "I felt terrible after doing it. Hell, I still feel terrible. I thought he was different…"

"What're you gonna do now?" I asked curiously. "I mean, there's a chance you could get pregnant, right?"

"There's a chance… really, there's always a chance no matter what. But honestly, given my experience, I don't think that I need to worry too much."

"And I'm guessing that it's safe to say that you two are finished?"

"No way in hell am I taking that boy back," Trixie answered.

"Well then," I said, pulling her closer, so that her face was conspicuously near mine, "just know that if the worst should happen, I'll be right there beside you. You won't be in this alone."

Trixie beamed up at me, and for a moment I was sure that her lips were venturing toward mine. But instead she embraced me with the tightest hug a guy could ever ask for. "You're the best friend a screw-up like me could ever have."

I grinned to myself.

Hey, it was a start.

END

**Bahh, it's way past my bedtime. I need sleep immensely. **

**You know what I think? I think you should review this so that I can have something to read before I go to work tomorrow morning.**

**That would be nice. :D**

**Hope you all enjoyed it!**

**  
Yours in fiction,**

**YFWE**


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